


Ten Words

by captainlandwhaleamerica



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Donna gets a long speech this time, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Post Bartlet Debate, cause quite frankly she deserves it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 10:36:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11804301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainlandwhaleamerica/pseuds/captainlandwhaleamerica
Summary: Josh can't get over the fact that he never found the ten words that Leo asked for.Alternatively known as: Donna Gives Josh a Piece of Her Mind





	Ten Words

CJ was right. There was a lot of drinking on the plane. Donna hadn’t seen this much alcohol and laughter clumsily thrown together since the first election. Perhaps, she thought, tonight would rival it. Many of the elements were the same as they had been three years ago. CJ and Sam, who were always the life of the party, had conjured booze and music from God knows where, wasting no time before cranking up the volume. Toby was sitting in a corner with scotch in one and a cigar in the other. Andi was seated next to him, close, but far enough that it mattered, their heads bent together in heated debate. Leo was smiling so hard it seemed his face would crack. The President—their President—made a brief appearance with The First Lady, offering a half exhausted, mostly proud smile and nod to each individual. 

Donna was leaned up against a far wall, glass in hand, the warmth of the vodka soda settling contentedly in her stomach. She could party with the rest of them, but tonight, she was much happier as the observer, to bear witness to the victorious joy emanating throughout the room. And there certainly was a lot to witness. 

She felt, rather than realized, Josh’s absence from the room. It was a sudden feeling of emptiness that hit her softly and all at once. More surprised than anything else, she looked around for him. He usually used the opportunity of brief and elusive electoral victory to exercise his lightweight drinking tendencies without (much) consequence. This included, but was by no means limited to: yelling over the music, endeavoring to change everyone’s mind about his ‘sensitive system’, executing some thoroughly horrifying dance moves and making his “victorious manhood” known to all. She chuckled at a clear memory of Josh’s performance of the Macarena after the first election. The moves were backwards, but completed with total confidence, a move only Josh could execute while still retaining some remnants of his political capital.

Where on earth was he? Not among the immediate crowd, not by Leo or Toby…

Donna left her post, weaving her way through the crowd, not as content as before. The warm feeling in her stomach was turning quickly to dread. It was unlike Josh not to celebrate after a victory like this. The man worked hard, but when given the chance, he would party hard, as if he were once again the brash college kid who registered a goldfish as a student. Donna approached Sam, who was chatting animatedly with CJ about the ramifications of such an event, a list of all the good things they could expect from tonight. 

“Donna!” Sam’s smile was wide and his breath heavy with whiskey. 

“Hey Sam, Hey CJ!” she couldn’t help but grin back at them and allow herself to be temporarily diverted. It was an uncommonly good night. 

“Helluva night isn’t it?” CJ enthused, echoing her thoughts. It wasn’t often CJ didn’t have to spin after a political event, and she was deservedly rewarding herself with what Donna surmised was her third glass of wine. 

“Best we’ve had in a long while,” Donna returned.

“Better ones ahead with any luck!” Sam ginned, ever the optimist. 

“Luck and hard work,” CJ added. 

“But not tonight!” Sam reminded her, raising his glass and letting out a holler of joy. 

“I’ll drink to that!” CJ laughed.

“Cheers!” Donna took a sip before barreling ahead with her original purpose, “Have either of you seen Josh?”

“Come to think of it, loud protestation at our choice of music has been strangely lacking from this celebration. Where is the troublemaker?” CJ asked. 

“I’m not sure, that’s why I asked. He was a little quiet on the ride back from the debate site so I’m just a little worried,” Donna looked around the room with slightly more desperation now. 

“Try the bathroom. That sensitive system may have already backfired,” Sam laid a comforting arm on her shoulder, immediately understanding her worry. His comment, however, sent CJ into a cascade of laughter. Donna nodded her thanks toward him and left their small gathering. 

She found nothing in the bathroom except a couple of aides in the midst of a victorious hookup, which was rather unceremoniously interrupted by her calls of ‘Josh? You in here?’ On her way back, she passed by some of the conference rooms and heard the unmistakable sound of a fist pounding repeatedly against a wooden surface. She nudged the door open slightly and sure enough, there was Josh, surrounded by crumpled up pieces of paper and binders, head-down on the table. So great was his torment he didn’t notice her standing in the doorway. Under his breath she heard him mutter, “Ten words, ten words. Ten. Words. Why are ten words so damn hard to find?” He punctuated this last question with another fist pound to the table. 

For a moment, Donna considered leaving him there. Josh was so difficult when he got into self-destructive moods like this, somehow simultaneously grumpy and petulant, a toddler and grandfather wrapped into one very discontented individual. She knew should leave, go back to the party, let him work through whatever it was that was going on with him. It was what a normal assistant would do. 

But she was no normal assistant. She couldn’t describe whatever the relationship was between her and Josh. There were no words for it. But it certainly didn’t involve leaving him alone like this. 

She tapped lightly on the door and called out softly, “Josh?” His head snapped up, startled. 

“How long have you been there?” 

Choosing not to answer, she said, “You should come to the party. Sam’s playing all the wrong music and there’s even talk you didn’t have as big a role in the Appropriations Bill as you claim” 

For a moment, a flare of incredulity passed across his features, a spark of the Josh that banged his fist against his chest, not the table. The, his eyes flitted back to papers in front of him.

“Maybe later,” he responded quietly, “I have to do this first” 

“What could possibly be a matter of urgency right now?” By instinct, she crossed over to him and began clearing away the crumbled pieces of paper, “You heard CJ, we’re off the hook, at least for the night” 

“I never found them,” she heard him whisper, almost imperceptibly, “Those damn words. I let him down…I—” 

“Josh, what on Earth are you talking about?”

He stood up suddenly, the volatile anger within him clear and explosive, “I had one job today. Find the ten words on tax policy and get them to the President. I didn’t realize it until after the debate, but I never found them. Anyone other than Josiah Bartlet would have been totally thrown—” He stopped his pacing, looking suddenly lost, “I can’t celebrate because I wasn’t there for the President tonight” 

Donna looked at him for a moment, and then sighed, “Alright” 

He wheeled around to look at her, confused. 

“What?”

“I said alright. I’ll leave you alone to your own personal pity party” 

“My what?”

“You heard me, Josh,” she responded with a sigh, turning to leave, “I’ll close this and let you continue” 

“No! I mean—what are you insinuating by ‘my personal pity party’? This isn’t for me. It’s for the President!” 

“What good are the ten words now that the debate’s over?” 

“I’m doing MY JOB, Donna!” He ran his hands through his already mussed up hair, a sure sign of stress, “Which is more than I can say for you right now! We haven’t actually won the election yet, so what do you think you’re doing drinking instead of contributing?” 

Donna bit back an angry retort, feeling the hurt spike through her chest. 

“Okay, I’m going to ignore that unfair remark because you’re obviously in a mood right now,” she held up a finger as he started to protest, “Don’t even pretend you’re not, Joshua Lyman. Believe it or not, but the Democratic Party doesn’t actually live and die with ten words born out of your entitled, Ivy-League brain. The President isn’t supported solely by your brilliance. This thing we do is a team effort. Yeah, tonight you didn’t do your part, but that doesn’t mean the rest of us throw in the towel. We depend on each other. You taught me that. So yes, this is your personal pity party. You’re wallowing in the fact that for once, things didn’t go your way. This punishment you’re giving yourself? You just want attention. And it’s unfair and exhausting for me to constantly give it to you, especially when you don’t deserve it,” she paused for breath and spoke again, softer this time, “We won, Josh. Why can’t we just take a minute and celebrate it. Surely we deserve that. Surely you deserve that. Stop dwelling on things that don’t really matter in the end” 

During her tirade, his eyes had been fixated on the ground, but he looked up now, not shocked so much as startled. 

“Been holding that inside you long?” 

“Since the day I started working for you,” she extended her hand to him, “Come on, let’s go to the party” 

For one last moment he glanced hesitantly back at the remnants of his thoughts and she caught the same horribly haunted, broken look in eyes, the one she had seen that awful week before Christmas. The one she swore she would never ignore again. 

“Josh,” He looked back at her with her with shining eyes—probably due to exhaustion, but there was a trace of fierce hope in there too. She gestured in the direction of the party with her head. He took her hand, allowing her to pull him up. 

As they neared the party, he came up behind her and touched her elbow, stepping in close so that she alone could hear him over the happy din of their still celebrating colleagues. 

“Donna?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” He paused, considering his next words, “Believe it or not, but I depend on you everyday”

Astonished, she stared at him. It was so unlike Josh to say something…well so unlike Josh. Then, she saw the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and figured it out. 

“Those don’t count” 

“Sure they do!”

“How so?”

“Because,” he answered without hesitation, “those ones matter in the end”


End file.
